


Worthless Treasure

by bittersweetangstlord, hiilikedragons



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (that's a more recent development), (the child abuse was not sexual), Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Ending, Choking, Collars, Father/Son Incest, Human Trafficking, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Incest, Light Bondage, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Parent/Child Incest, Rape, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-30 20:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17230859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittersweetangstlord/pseuds/bittersweetangstlord, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiilikedragons/pseuds/hiilikedragons
Summary: After being kidnapped by the criminal empire Altea, known for human trafficking, Lotor regrets ever running away from home. If only he could get away or get a message back to his father, he would be more than willing to return home and face his father's wrath. At least then, instead of the sexual abuse that he's certain he'll receive from whoever buys him from Altea, he would only have to face the physical and verbal abuse that he's known all his life, right? ...Right?After his worthless son runs away from home, Zarkon devises a plan to retrieve him. This time, he's going to train him up properly and make him useful for something, by any means necessary.Anymeans necessary...





	Worthless Treasure

**Author's Note:**

> Please read all of the tags and warnings above. This fic contains incest, rape, abuse, and no happy ending.
> 
> Lotor is about nineteen years old here and is described as "youthful" at multiple points. If you think you might be triggered or otherwise overly bothered by that, it might be best for you to stay away.
> 
> Otherwise, for the rest of you who are ready to dive into this monster of a darkfic... Both of the authors wish you good luck~

Lotor couldn’t see, couldn’t move. The small sack over his head and the ropes cinched just a little too tightly around him assured that. He was dressed in plain clothes that covered all the parts of his skin that the rope touched, but he knew enough about the traffickers’ process to know that they would dress him up in pretty and alluring clothing and bondage jewelry before presenting him to whomever his buyer would be.

He couldn’t help but wonder whom he was being sold to. Clearly, some kind of deal had already been arranged, or else they wouldn’t have bothered to bring him. He hoped that he’d somehow be able to escape from this new person and get word back to his father. He never should have run off in the first place. If he hadn’t tried to run away, he never would have been alone and vulnerable for the traffickers to find him…

The van stopped, and Lotor was soon being carried to their destination. Once inside, the traffickers he knew only as Black and Red stripped him with professional indifference and redressed him in skimpy, silken purple clothing, golden body jewelry, and a black leather collar with smooth, rounded golden decorations embedded in it. Black applied makeup to Lotor’s face, bringing out the rich hues of his light brown skin, accentuating his delicate facial features, and emphasizing his rich blue eyes.

Finally, Red guided him by the chain leash attached to his golden collar into a sparsely furnished room. He directed Lotor to recline on a couch, presumably so that he would look more alluring to their client, and then moved to stand watch beside the couch, still holding the end of the leash. There was a chair set up in front of the couch, presumably for Black, and two chairs were set opposite from it. Lotor wondered if they were for the client and their bodyguard...

\---

Sendak’s hands were clammy on the steering wheel as he drove himself and Zarkon to their destination. It was practical, in all senses, for the two of them to meet up and ride together in the same car. Everything would be in Sendak’s territory, and therefore, control, and therefore, his best interests. He didn’t live this long without being as paranoid as he was. And also, he didn’t want to risk having Zarkon get lost on the way. That would make the both of them look like idiots.

Sendak risked a glance to his side at the passenger seat. Zarkon was someone he knew a long time ago, but they had lost contact. Or rather—Zarkon had terminated contact. It was surprising to him when the older man reached out to him completely out of the blue—and for a reason that caused Sendak to raise his eyebrows. That was not an easy thing to do.

_‘I want to purchase a human.’_

Sendak didn’t think Zarkon was into that kind of stuff, but whatever. Appearances were deceiving. The older man had once been more involved in black market affairs, but even then, he had never been interested in human trafficking. After finding great success in other areas of the market, he had retired, and he now lived a fat and luxurious life.

 _Well, ‘fat’ might be the wrong word_ , Sendak thought as he glanced again at his passenger.  Zarkon sat imposing in his seat, suit finely tailored to every sharp angle of his large but toned body, staring forward at the road with an impassive expression. Sendak always did have a hard time guessing what he was thinking.

“We’re almost there. I know these people, alright? So just let me do the talking.”

Sendak didn’t receive a reply. He remembered that about Zarkon too. He almost never spoke, and when he did, it was terrifying.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, albeit a little tense for Sendak. His nerves were getting to him. He was a veteran at these things, but it was _Zarkon_ who made him nervous—just by existing next to him. There seemed to always be this aura of untold violence simmering beneath the surface. All it needed was an excuse to raise its head and bite.

They pulled up to the restaurant and parked near the road. If anything went wrong… Sendak was always prepared to haul ass to safety if it ever came to it. You never knew what would happen with body-snatchers.

Zarkon was calm and methodical in his movements as he unbuckled himself and stepped out of the car. Sendak, outwardly, was the same. His palms were still sweaty; the fifteen-minute drive wasn’t enough for him to settle, apparently. He just had this distinct uneasy feeling, but about what, he wasn’t sure. Usually, his gut was right, and he was just about tempted to call all of this off, but one look at Zarkon’s face had that thought exiting his mind pretty quickly. Sendak had a feeling he would be run over with his own car, thrice, if he canceled their plans now.

The two of them turned to the restaurant in unison and strode inside. Sendak was in a rather older, mildly ill-fitting suit, and he looked like a rumpled vagrant walking beside Zarkon, who was much more impeccable in his tailor-made, designer suit. But at the very least, they both blended in, as this was one of Altea’s fancier restaurants.

Once inside, they made their way through the short line and met the waiter. Sendak picked random things off the menu, asked for a private booth, and finally followed up with the ‘password,’ as it were: “I would also like two tall glasses of Altean wine, thank you.”

The waiter paused for a microsecond and that was all Sendak needed to know that he was still new to his job. The young man recovered quickly and nodded. “Right this way then. We have a private room open right now.” He called up someone to cover his post and then began leading the men to their true destination.

Everything was going as expected. It did help a little to settle Sendak’s nerves. The waiter knocked on the door once, bowed, and immediately departed. Smart boy, knew better than to linger for too long—so probably not _that_ new to his job.

The door opened a crack and a small sliver of a face peered out: the man Sendak had once known as Champion and now knew as Black.

Black gave Sendak a diplomatic smile. “Sendak, welcome. And welcome to you too, sir.” He nodded toward Sendak’s client. “Here at Altea, I am known as the Black Paladin, but please, call me Black. It’s a pleasure to do business with you. What would you like me to call you, sir?” He extended his hand toward the client for a handshake.

Zarkon glared at that hand before he shook it and replied, both actions equally firmly, “Ravani.”

“Excellent.” Black nodded in the direction of the stairs leading to the basement. “Allow me to show you the merchandise. If you would follow me…” He led the way, bypassing security as they went, down into the basement. After walking down a hallway and around a corner, Black stopped in front of the door to the room currently holding the ‘merchandise.’

In the meantime, Lotor had little to do, anxiously awaiting his fate. He bit down on the gag in his mouth, trying to manage his stress, but it did nothing to help. He couldn’t move his hands without attracting Red’s attention, since a fairly heavy chain was attached to the large, golden cuffs on his wrists, with the other end attached to his collar. Whenever he tried to move his hands, the chain jangled, and Red looked over. All he could do was wait, reclined on the couch.

Then, the door opened, and Lotor’s eyes locked right onto the people on the other side.

Sendak was trailing right behind Black, followed by Zarkon. He stood taller than them both by leagues and his silhouette darkened the threshold of the door. It was clear Lotor wasn’t expecting him, of all people, if the widening of his eyes was any indication. Zarkon was thankful they kept him gagged—per his request. It seemed Sendak had come through for him after all. He didn’t doubt his idiot son would shout something stupid and give it all away.

Sendak and Zarkon allowed themselves to be ushered in by the Paladins, towards the chairs opposite the couch with the ‘merchandise.’ Sendak took a seat, but Zarkon was content to remain standing. He found that people found it very hard to function well near him whenever he stood around and loomed. Plus, he intended to come over and inspect the ‘product,’ as it were, for imperfections. For now, Zarkon settled for roving over Lotor with his eyes, taking in the silken garments and the chains. It was all very delicate looking and made Lotor look just as much so.

Very tempted to nervously bounce his leg, Sendak instead rubbed his moist palms on his thighs. That distinct feeling of uneasiness was back, but he pushed it down, instead opting to watch Zarkon stare hungrily at the merchandise. It was mildly off-putting, really. Sendak didn’t think the older man was into young twinks, but alright, he wasn’t here to judge. He was here to facilitate a deal, get paid for an easy job, and go home for the night.

Not one to mince words, nor known for his legendary negotiation skills, Sendak cut to the heart of the matter: “Alright. How much?” He folded his arms to look more imposing.

Lotor’s heart raced as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Why was his father here? Was he… was he rescuing him? That had to be what was happening, right? Relief and uneasiness battled in Lotor’s mind as he squirmed under his father’s gaze. He rationalized that Zarkon was probably just looking disdainfully at the outfit the traffickers had forced him into. He must be so disappointed in Lotor for falling this far. Still, no matter what punishment he devised, it would be better than being sold off as a sex slave, right? His father was freeing him.

Black, seeing that ‘Ravani’ was still standing, remained standing as well. When Sendak spoke, he looked down at him, and a smile to played at the corners of his lips. “I see you haven’t changed, Sendak. Straight to the point. Our prices for men aren’t usually as high, but this one in particular is a beauty, wouldn’t you agree? We want thirty G for him.”

Sendak rubbed his chain while keeping his other arm folded across his chest. “Thirty… That’s a bit high, don’t you think? Even if he’s pretty. Is he a virgin? Well-trained? Or at the very least, broken in? You’ve got to justify that price, or else he is only worth fifteen at most.” Sendak honestly gave such a low price to heckle the former Champion, but nobody had to know that.

Beside him, Zarkon’s hand twitched. Inwardly, it burned him to have _anything_ associated with him be treated so crassly, even if it were his good-for-nothing child. He gave Lotor another look, making sure to look him in the eyes and made his disappointment and anger known. He wasn’t remiss to bending his son over and spanking him like the disobedient, runaway brat he was. And if another emotion burned in Zarkon’s gaze, he wouldn’t know it or realize it until later.

Rather impatient, Zarkon waved a hand. “Just do it. Thirty-thousand is nothing. You remember how to wire my account in?”

Sendak jerked his head towards the taller man. His mouth fell open a little in shock. What was the point of having him here again? Right, to know the location, and to gain entry. Sendak regained his composure and scratched his head. “Fine, thirty it is.” He stood up and approached Black, gesturing for the two to step aside. He knew how to transfer such a large amount of money in without drawing attention or actually having his client carry a suitcase full of money in. That was too old-school.

As Black stepped aside with Sendak to discuss the exact details of the transfer, Lotor squirmed under his father’s gaze. He felt sick at the knowledge that it would cost so much to ransom him; he had no doubt that his father would make him pay it back somehow, probably with interest, to make it up to him. Still, all that mattered was that he was going to be free.

Finally, they’d completed their negotiations. Black nodded to Red, who handed the end of the leash over to Zarkon. “It was a pleasure doing business with you,” Black said cordially. “How would you like to transport your purchase? If you bring your vehicle around behind the building, you can transfer him into it without anyone else noticing. Red can lead one of you to the back door while I lead the other back to your car. Of course, you need us to bypass security.”

Sendak took a steadying breath and then released it with a mighty sigh. Sometimes, he felt as old as he actually was. “Sounds good. I’ll bring the car back. My client probably wants to… inspect the ‘product’ further.” He nodded his head towards Zarkon, who was looming over the poor thing on the couch. He had a hand on his chin, perhaps as if pondering something. Although his expression was somewhat dark, whatever Zarkon was thinking couldn’t be guessed.

Sendak didn’t even want to try. He repressed a shudder and followed Black out the door, abandoning Zarkon to both Red and the ‘merchandise.’

Easily ignoring Red, Zarkon walked closer to Lotor. He looked… alluring, all tied up and shivering in fear, and that had twin thrills of pleasure rolling down Zarkon’s spine and into his belly. He refrained from saying anything aloud, but he did reach out and grasp Lotor’s chin to turn his head to and fro as if looking for any signs of damage—which he was. Whether he would care or find righteous anger if he saw any blemishes was another matter entirely. Mostly, he liked the way the collar moved on Lotor’s throat when his head was twisted this way and that.

_What a fool._

Zarkon tossed Lotor’s head away. Turning to the one called ‘Red,’ he merely said, “Lead.” He was rather distracted dealing with his conflicting… emotions about the whole situation. He gave Lotor another glance, then tugged the chain roughly, as if to say, ‘Get up.’

Lotor followed the tug of the chain, standing up as quickly as he could, though he was a little unsteady on his feet after laying down for a while. The various chains draped across his chest clinked together as he moved, and the chain attached to the cuffs around his wrists prevented him from moving his hands any lower than his waist, so, as he stumbled after his father, he reflexively brought his hands up to his chest in a defensive posture.

As Red led them both out, Lotor couldn’t help but wonder what his father was thinking. He was rescuing him, right? But the way his father was looking at him seemed… no, no, Zarkon was just looking him over to make sure he hadn’t been hurt, right? That was the only logical explanation.

They soon reached their destination behind the restaurant, and, at almost the same moment, a car pulled up with Sendak inside. Lotor realized that his father would probably have to put him in the trunk, since that was what everyone else would be expecting, and he began to cringe at the mere thought of it, hoping that his father would have a better solution.

Zarkon was still undecided about how he felt about the whole situation, but he was arriving at some… interesting conclusions—which was why he decided to have Lotor seated in the backseat alongside him. If their company was surprised, then Zarkon was _un_ surprised they hid it well. Everyone here was excellent at maintaining a professional poker face.

...Except maybe Lotor, who seemed relieved to not be stuffed in a trunk.

 _Hn. We’ll see about that._ Zarkon slid into the seat beside his rescued son, almost eager to begin his ‘experiments.’ He gave directions to an abandoned lot, with a crumbled church building, and Sendak obediently set on their way.

While Sendak didn’t want to be caught transferring such illegal ‘merchandise,’ Zarkon had assured him that the lot his own car was parked in had neither CCTV nor a soul nearby to witness. The older man had set this plan in motion months ago when he’d found his errant child missing. The amount of planning, double checking, and effort he went to had better be worth it.

Zarkon turned to Lotor seated beside him. His hands were still clutched feebly to his chest, and Zarkon almost scoffed at the pathetic image, but he took a moment to appreciate it instead. Allowing himself to rove his eyes from head to toe of Lotor, Zarkon found that he really did like what he saw. Bound with chains and completely at his mercy, and that thought had a lot of pleasure pumping through his veins. Heat was rising in his body.

A hand flew out to grab a fistful of Lotor’s hair on his left. Zarkon used that to drag Lotor’s head closer to him. He leaned down and whispered, voice dry and full of gravel, drawing out each word, “You-owe-me.” He relished in the shiver that ran through Lotor. “I will wring every penny out of your worthless hide.” Zarkon gave his son’s head a rough shake and followed with, “Just wait until we get home.”

Feeling almost a little distant, Zarkon let his hand travel to Lotor’s throat and squeezed, finding that the choked noises Lotor made were absolutely delightful. Very idly, Zarkon said, “Take a right here and then follow the road for few miles. The lot will be on your left.”

It took Sendak a little longer than it should to realize that was directed at him. He almost started, but instead, tightened his grip on the steering wheel, determined to keep his eyes on the road. They kept straying to the scene in the back of his rented car. It was hard for him to tear his eyes away from watching an absolute brute choke a tiny little twink—and with little to no remorse, or even joy. There was just an empty expression—except, when Sendak looked closer, during a red light, he could see a darkness swimming in those red eyes. He shivered and directed his eyes back to the road.

The gag was still in Lotor’s mouth, and Zarkon was content to leave it that way. He did not have any patience for whatever Lotor would say. Unless they were words of appeaseme— Zarkon drew back a little as he thought about Lotor, begging on his knees, crying for mercy… Fire shot straight down to his crotch and he felt his cock harden as his imagination kept feeding his lust. Yes. He realized and fully accepted that he desired Lotor. He desired to have that lithe body underneath him, writhing, screaming, panting, begging… So much more. Dark, insidious thoughts were swirling in his mind.

He couldn’t wait to get home.

Almost belatedly, Zarkon remembered to loosen his grip on Lotor’s neck. He gave the boy another rough shake before leaning closer to murmur straight into his ear, “I own you,” and then released Lotor’s neck to settle back into a more comfortable position for the remainder of the ride. He kept a possessively tight grip on Lotor’s thigh, though, as a reminder. A warning.

Lotor’s heart was racing, and even after his father released the grip on his throat, he struggled to catch his breath, gasping around the gag. Fear had crept into his body, making him feel like his lungs couldn’t draw in enough air against the tightness in his chest. Some part of his mind was still rationalizing, saying that Zarkon was merely angry, that what would follow would simply be a punishment session not unlike those he had received when he was younger, but his father’s hand remained on his thigh, too high up to reasonably have any intention other than… Lotor didn’t even want to think about it. It was absurd, right? He wished he could move the hand away, but the chain connecting his cuffed wrists to his collared neck simply didn’t allow him enough room to. Besides, he feared how Zarkon might react.

Slowly, by degrees, he got his breath back, and as the accompanying lightheadedness started to fade, he tried to think about the situation objectively. This was hardly different from what he had been expecting. He had been fully expecting to be treated roughly, to be touched in ways he didn’t want, and to be on the receiving end of lingering looks, and so far, everything matched up exactly to what he had thought. The only factor that made all of this extremely strange and unnerving was the identity of his purchaser. Even if, by some stretch, his father was into this sort of vile deed, surely he would never…? To his own son…?

He feared what might happen next, looking over at his father nervously. Subconsciously, he shrank away from Zarkon’s imposing form, curling in on himself and allowing his long hair to fall past his shoulder, hiding his face somewhat. He instinctively wanted to draw his legs up, but the large hand on his thigh kept him from even trying. Though some part of him wished that he didn’t appear this weak and vulnerable, he had long ago learned that the only thing Zarkon despised more than weakness was rebellion, so it was safer to appear submissive and weak than strong and resistant.

Zarkon turned to look at Lotor fully, noting how he hid. _None of that. I want to see_ everything _. Every moment of agony, and pain, and_ pleasure _._ He brushed Lotor’s hair aside, tucking the strands behind an ear. It would’ve been a warm and kind gesture on anyone else, but the gentleness Zarkon used was completely unexpected for his son.

Though Lotor shivered at the feeling of his father’s fingertips tracing along his ear, he tried not to react visibly. He simply looked out the window, trying his best to ignore whatever Zarkon was doing, and that was when he realized that they were pulling into a parking lot that he didn’t recognize. His fear increased. It looked so abandoned and isolated. Was… was his father planning to kill him?! It seemed unlikely, but it also seemed somehow more rational than the competing theory haunting his mind.

Zarkon’s hand squeezed once around Lotor’s thigh, a promise, and he unbuckled both their seat belts before opening his door to slide out. Sendak remained in the front, seemingly fine to just wait for their departure. Every time Zarkon looked at him, Sendak appeared to not even be paying attention—but whenever the older man looked away, Sendak’s eyes were riveted on the two in his backseat. He had to admit, he really wanted to be a fly on the wall when the two of them got to the fucking. He didn’t want to just imagine what it would look like to have Zarkon ravage and destroy such a small body, he wanted to _watch_. There would be screams, he was sure. _Crying—and begging—and pleading—and choking… Damn_ , Sendak lamented.

“This concludes our business together.” Zarkon’s low voice was sudden and surprising.

Sendak jolted and then nodded, knowing Zarkon meant ‘never talk to me again ever unless I surprise you again a second time.’ Well, that took ‘Can I watch?’ off the table. _Double damn,_ a much more put out Sendak lamented further.

Zarkon grabbed the chain Lotor was attached to and roughly pulled on it, not caring if he misstepped or simply fell out of the car. He headed toward the side of the abandoned church, towards a dark lump. It was hard to see anything tucked between the sidewall of the church and the high wall of a concrete fence—why it was there was entirely unknown—but Zarkon had stashed Lotor’s favorite car, the Sincline, there under a cloth tarp. A dirty one.

The chain rattled as Zarkon led Lotor to their car. He pulled off the dirty covering and let it drop to the ground. Now that he had what he came for, he had no more need for something like that. He opened the back door for Lotor and shoved him in so hard the young man landed face first on the back seats.

Climbing into the driver’s seat, Zarkon buckled up and readied himself for a long drive home; his paranoia and preparation had involved being as far away from his true home as possible. He waited impatiently for Sendak to drive off and waited even longer to make sure no one was nearby before he turned on the car, feeling its low hum of power as it started. The entire time, he kept glancing in the rearview mirror at Lotor, content to simply take in the details of the state of his son. Rumpled, dazed, confused, terrified... He was practically naked and tied up all pretty.

Zarkon rubbed a hand against the straining material above his cock, feeling it pulse in response. As time passed, he got more and more aroused—and more and more impatient. A large part of him was very tempted to just fuck Lotor in the backseat. An unheard snarl lifted the corner of his mouth. _Patience_ , he told himself, _will reward you finely._

Yes, Zarkon was very eager to get home…

Meanwhile, Lotor laid low in the backseat, guessing that his father would probably not want him to sit up where someone might see him gagged even though the tinted windows. He seriously wondered why in the hell they were in _his_ car and how it had ended up in such a location, but he doubted he’d get the chance to ask anytime soon. At least it was alright, he supposed. He’d had no way to retrieve it after he’d been captured, so he’d assumed it would be stolen and sold like its owner. Unless that _had_ happened and Zarkon had bought it, too? He hated that thought. If that was the case, then Zarkon would certainly say that the car was his now, not Lotor’s, and most likely wouldn’t give it back to him.

Though it wasn’t very cold outside, Lotor’s lack of decent clothing made him too exposed to the elements, and the pleather seats of the car sucked his remaining body heat right out of him. He curled in on himself, shivering. He couldn’t even adjust the light, silken garment he wore, since the lack of range of motion on his wrists prevented him from being able to reach, so he had to leave it be even as it rode up on his hips and left his legs exposed.

As they finally headed toward their destination, Lotor looked up and out the windows of the car, relishing the sight of the outdoors. His eyes occasionally flickered to his father, but he never kept looking at him for long, trying instead to distract himself. Idly, he fingered the collar around his neck, wishing that he could get it off and get the gag out of his mouth. His jaw was aching already, and he was sure that the pain was only going to get worse the longer it was left in.

After a while, the streets and buildings began to look more familiar, and Lotor realized that they were getting close to their house. Even though he was relieved to be nearly home, his anxiety about what would happen next increased. His father surely had some kind of punishment in mind for him…

The car slowly began to pull up their driveway after passing by a gate that immediately opened for them. Zarkon brought the car around to the garage, knowing that they would be able to move unimpeded and unseen. It was nearing midnight by this point, and the cleaning crew was long gone.

He unbuckled and stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him. He chose to walk around the front of the car to the passenger side just so he could see Lotor’s face—and most notably, his expressions. Opening the backseat door and grabbing a fistful of Lotor’s hair, he dragged him forward for better leverage before letting go and hooking an arm around his son’s waist. The move pulled the garments bunched enticingly around Lotor’s waist downwards, covering the upper part of his thighs with the purple silk. Zarkon felt a twinge of disappointment at that, but he pushed it aside. Those garments would be pushed up again or cast aside entirely to leave Lotor naked and bare before him soon enough.

Ignoring his son's stumbling, Zarkon kept an arm cinched around his waist and manhandled him up the small set of stairs into their large house. He immediately strode through the hallway that spilled into their kitchen, went straight through the dining room, and finally reached the stairs leading to their bedchambers.

If Lotor shook from the cold or from fear, it didn’t matter to Zarkon. All that mattered was there was a feeble little thing in his grip, practically crushed against his side, and they were well on their way to his bedroom, where he could finally shed his confining clothes, and _release_. Precum had been leaking all throughout the long drive, leaving a dark stain on the front of his trousers. It would’ve been shameful, but considering the reason why he was so hard was his _son..._

Zarkon was incredibly excited. He moved at a quicker pace, opting to throw Lotor over his shoulders as he took the stairs two at a time. Their house had high ceilings, meaning he had more stairs to ascend, which was irritating him just about now. Quite fit for his age, he crested the landing of the stairs without much effort.

The entirety of the second floor was his ‘room,’ but it was sectioned off into tinier partitions. Zarkon headed to the one that held his bedchambers. The door was equipped with a fancy lock that held many sensors. Fortunately, it accepted a quick fingerprint and unlocked easily. He toed the door open, kicking it shut behind him after he entered, and beelined right for the bed, tossing his son down.

Lotor hit the bed hard, knocking some of the breath out of him, and he rolled onto his back to look up at his father warily. He couldn’t understand why Zarkon was manhandling him like this. The roughness, dragging him by the chain—that, he could expect, but being held against his side and thrown over his shoulder? That made no sense.

Then, his eyes traveled downwards, and his blood froze. He could hardly comprehend what he was seeing. Zarkon… was aroused? By _him?_ He shook his head in denial. No, no, there was no way. This wasn’t happening. How could his father ever want him in that way? The very thought made Lotor ill, and he shrank back away from the older man, using his feet to push him up toward the headboard of the bed.

Almost hysterically, he tried to think of some kind of explanation. Was there any chance that this somehow wasn’t actually his father? Or that he didn’t recognize Lotor? Maybe he’d lost all memory of him or something. But… the possessiveness, clear as day, in Zarkon’s eyes, told Lotor otherwise.

And those eyes watched as he tried his best to put distance between them. Zarkon found it pathetic, watching him crawl up the bed without the use of his arms. Eventually, the headboards—and wall—stopped Lotor’s escape.

Content to leaving him to his own devices for a little longer, Zarkon began unbuttoning his suit jacket. Tossing it off, he unbuckled his belt and tossed it aside. It landed with a heavy thump, causing Lotor to flinch. Zarkon allowed a smirk to crawl across his face as he stared at his son. He took in a steady breath. Yes… He wanted Lotor, his son. This was fine. Zarkon was never remiss about taking anything he wanted. It didn’t matter who or what it was, or its place of origin. Everything would be his for the taking if he so willed it.

He began to unbutton his shirt, opting to save removing his trousers for last. He wanted to milk every agonizing second of Lotor’s fear and misery. It almost felt like he could smell his fear in the air, and Zarkon took another heady breath in as if to do just that. He could feel his cock jump and pulse in his trousers, begging to be let out. The tight constraints it was being put under were nearly driving him mad.

Tossing the shirt aside, he began to unzip his trousers and pulled them and his undergarments off in one motion. His hard cock sprung free immediately, and he felt relief flow through him as cool air began to circulate around his throbbing member. A hand came to idly give it a few strokes as he thought about how to best restrain Lotor. Zarkon didn’t need him to be completely still—he liked _some_ fight, after all—but he also didn’t want to contend with the little brat possibly getting away. He glanced at the chains clustered around the boy’s chest, also helping to keep his hands constrained, and reconsidered. No, Lotor had little chance of getting anywhere, now that he thought about it.

Zarkon approached the bed and his hand flew out to grasp Lotor around the ankle, dragging him closer. The smirk on his face widened. “Welcome home, Lotor,” he purred as he continued to pull. When he got him close enough, Zarkon decided to be merciful and undid the gag, finally releasing aching jaws; now was as good a time as any. After all, Zarkon fully intended on drawing all kinds of sounds from those lips. The sight of them straining around such a large object all night had done wonders for Zarkon’s erection. It was one of the main reasons that had him going down this path.

Though he tried to struggle, Lotor couldn’t resist Zarkon’s pull on him. The friction dragged the lower edge of his garment up to his hips, leaving his lower body completely exposed, so he closed his legs and drew one knee up to try to hide from his father’s lustful gaze. As the gag came out, he gently worked his jaw open and closed, trying in part to alleviate the soreness and in part to find any words that could somehow fit the situation.

Finally, he asked, “Wh-why are you doing this? If—” Anger rose up in his veins, beginning to overtake his fear, and he spat, “If you don’t care about my wellbeing, if you’re fine with me being raped and tormented, why not just let Altea sell me off to someone random? Why not buy someone else?! When I saw you walk in, I was glad because I thought you were _rescuing me_ , but now you’re acting like you only want—you only…” He couldn’t force himself to say it. He turned his head away, refusing to look at this father. If only he could fight back, get away… But no. He knew he couldn’t overpower his father, and there was no way he could escape unless Zarkon was out of the room or thoroughly distracted, which wasn’t likely to happen soon.

Zarkon’s first instinct was unpreventable: he lashed out and backhanded Lotor. He watched as the boy’s pretty face snapped to the side, and watched even more fervently as his cheeks reddened from the strike. When Lotor turned his head back to face Zarkon again, the older man jabbed two fingers in between unsuspecting lips, forcing his digits straight in and down Lotor’s throat, delighting in the choking and gagging sounds he emitted. Growling, Zarkon said, “I will not suffer my property to be used by anyone but me. You were mine even before I wasted the time, money, and effort to fetch you.” He dug the fingers in for extra emphasis and then abruptly pulled his hand back.

Dropping his grip on Lotor’s ankle, Zarkon instead brought his large hand to clamp around his son’s thigh instead and used that as leverage to haul him even closer to his body. His bottom was soon pulled flush against Zarkon’s thighs, who stood taller than the bed’s surface, and his ass ended up tucking just under the larger man’s dick. The new position allowed Lotor’s own cock to rub against his father’s from beneath, and Zarkon took this chance to begin a slow rocking motion, pressing their shafts together. Precum was leaking from Zarkon, covering both of their cocks and serving as a lubricant. A look of rapt attention began to fill his face as he leered down at Lotor.

With his other hand, still somewhat moist from the drying saliva, he grabbed Lotor’s other thigh and wrenched it to the side, spreading him wide open, the only place left for Lotor’s legs to go being around Zarkon’s imposing body. Completely ignoring any protests his son made, he slammed both of his hands down beside Lotor’s head on the bed, using the motion to bring himself closer. His breaths came in harder pants, puffing against Lotor’s face, as he took that moment to enjoy the feeling of a youthful body so close to his, being pressed down by his massive frame. Their bodies burned where their skin touched.

Though Lotor cringed away, there was nowhere for him to go. The last thing he wanted was to have sex with his father, but he was powerless against Zarkon’s strength and dominance. Worse yet, his body was beginning to react to the pleasure and the sensuality of the situation, and arousal was setting in, causing heat to spread like poison throughout his body and slowly bringing his cock to a shameful hardness.

Lotor stayed flat against the bed and kept his legs spread, trying to minimize the contact between them, but his efforts were pointless. Only the thinnest layer of silk and some body jewelry laid between their bodies as Zarkon pressed him into the bed. With his still-cuffed hands, he pressed against Zarkon’s chest in a feeble attempt to push him off, but he knew he had no chance. “Please,” he begged, “don’t do this. You can punish me, make me pay you back, whatever else you want, but _please_ , don’t make me do this. I’m your _son_. Doesn’t that bother you?” He looked into Zarkon’s eyes pleadingly, hoping beyond hope that there might be some scrap of mercy to be found there.

Zarkon tilted his head as his eyes bored into his son’s. He hoped Lotor could see the desire pulsing through his veins. He hoped, also, that Lotor could see the dark intent in his eyes, hoped his son would realize and know that he wanted to draw both pleasure _and_ pain from his flesh. Lotor’s skin was soft and supple, and Zarkon was eager to find out how easy it bruised, and how long those marks lingered.

Leaning closer, he murmured, voice husky and low, “Punish you? Force reparation from you? Don’t you realize that _is_ what I’m doing?” He placed his hand on Lotor’s face, brushing a thumb in across soft, trembling lips. It would’ve been a loving gesture if it were from anyone else, but it was an act to drive home the horror about to be committed. Practically breathing the words against his son’s lips, he whispered, “You are mine. To teach, and to punish. You will learn what it means to be a good pet. _My_ pet.”

Suddenly, he moved his hand to shove his thumb and index into Lotor’s unsuspecting mouth, and then wrenched it apart. Lotor’s teeth dug into his fingers, but he ignored it as he dropped onto his forearm and closed the gap between them, pressing their lips together. Letting his large tongue slither out, he invaded Lotor’s mouth, filling it whole. His tongue roved into every nook and cranny, testing and tasting, before he finally pressed his tongue over Lotor’s, prodding him to respond to his ‘kiss.’ He chased it as it attempted to escape him, their two appendages constantly sliding against each other, but he eventually grew impatient and pulled back with a wet pop, though not after shoving it as far down Lotor’s throat as he could get.

Pulling back a little to see even more of a slowly unraveling Lotor, Zarkon murmured, hoarsely, “You _will_ repay me, but _I_ decide what you are worth.”

He felt extreme gratification as he took in the sight before him: Lotor, coughing after the surprise attack on his mouth and throat. Eyes wide with shock and revulsion, and a thin line of saliva sliding down his chin. _His son_ , almost entirely naked and enchained, unable to resist, with his legs spread wide open, and his cock serving as a subservient throne for his father’s much larger one to rest upon. The bunching of silken fabric on Lotor’s waist only served to make him look even more like a wanton slut, too eager for cock to even bother to take off his clothes.

Right now, with his son’s current behavior… Worth only a penny.

It was becoming clear to Lotor that there was no way out, but he still couldn’t accept the truth. His hands had been pressed flat against his chest when Zarkon lied on top of him to kiss him, and he kept them there, hoping the slight pressure would stabilize his too-fast and too-shallow breaths. He could feel his heart pounding, and he wondered if his father had felt it, too. Was Zarkon enjoying his fear? Or was it the rush of power from forcing pleasure from someone weaker and lesser? Or perhaps it was pure lust. All three, most likely.

He drew a shaky breath. He still had to try at least one last time. “I-I could pay you back monetarily. I could give you twice as much as you paid for me.” His mind was racing. He didn’t have that kind of money, but he had a few ideas of how he could get it. “I could have the money for you within three days, and—and you could still keep me at home afterward and…” He hesitated, biting his lip, but he knew what would likely sound appealing to his father. “…discipline me like you did when I was a child, using your belt or whatever else you want to inflict pain. Just, _please_ , don’t force me to commit incest with you. I don’t want this. How—how could _you_ want this?!” His voice raised toward the end, his rebellious spirit trying to fight back even as tears threatened his eyes.

Then, he narrowed his eyes and let his voice fall low as he tried the last weapon left at his disposal. “If Mother were here, she’d be _disgusted_. She would never let you do this to me, your own son, _her_ son.” He glared steadily into his father’s eyes, hoping perhaps to see some flicker of pain or remorse.

Zarkon reeled back when he heard Lotor’s hissed words. There was only pure fury and hatred in his eyes. “Do not ever bring your mother into this, you worthless swine!” he snarled in return. His hands clenched into fists, all too ready to punch Lotor in the face, but he took steadying breaths. He didn’t want to mar Lotor’s face, but the rest...

Zarkon could see the desperation in Lotor’s eyes, hear it in his voice. His son was looking for any way out, using empty words and giving emptier promises. He wouldn’t allow that. Lotor would never escape him. Zarkon _did_ allow himself to slap him again, cracking his knuckles against cheekbones several times before he was satisfied. The whimpers and crying did much to soothe his anger, though he fully intended on channeling that fury later, using it as more fuel to abuse Lotor.

A wicked idea crossed Zarkon’s mind, drawing an equally evil smile to his face. He reached down and began to stroke their two touching cocks. His hand was large enough to sufficiently envelope both of them. He gave long, measured pumps as he watched Lotor’s expression change, watched for the pleasure to overtake and slacken his face. He made sure to run his thumb over both their cockheads with equal opportunity, moaning lightly when he touched his own. His dick pulsed and jumped in his hand, almost as if to say it was eager to finally slide into a tight, warm hole that wanted nothing more than to reject it—eager to force its way in and rend scream after agonized scream. Zarkon slid his nail into the slit of Lotor’s cock, feeling his son’s entire body jolt underneath him.

Precum was smeared on his palm, which he decided was good enough as a lubricant for Lotor, whom he considered lucky to be even availed such a luxury. He stopped stroking their cocks and instead reached down and pressed a finger onto Lotor’s hole, eager to begin the most horrific punishment he could think of for him. He would prepare him, but only to draw Lotor into a sense of complacency. He would never bother to consider his son’s comfort.

Dryly, as if his throat could never have enough liquid in it at the moment, Zarkon ground out, “You _are_ repaying me. This is the only way you are worth anything.” He pressed his finger deeper onto Lotor’s resisting hole, still not breaking through the ring of muscle, but threateningly close. “This,” he continued, stretching and drawing every word out slowly, as if to make sure Lotor heard and knew what he was saying, “is worth a dime to me. You now owe me twenty-nine thousand—and nine hundred—ninety-nine. Point nine.” Zarkon tilted his head and let a horrific smile scythe his face. “But you just promised me you would even pay double.” Then another thought seemed to occur to him. “Oh, and your _car_.”

He placed his other hand on Lotor’s thigh, using it to stabilize both himself and his son, should the latter try to kick in resistance for the coming penetration. Little more than a purr with how low his voice had gotten, he finished with, “And you owe your mother. How much is she worth?” He felt immense satisfaction in turning Lotor’s ‘weapon’ against him.

Though the slaps had scared Lotor into silence and submission, Zarkon's words brought back his fury in full force. A wiser man would have probably kept his mouth shut, but although Lotor knew that nothing he said would change his father’s mind, his pride wouldn't let him give up just yet. “If I were _really_ worth so little to you, you wouldn't have bothered to retrieve me,” he hissed. “And I was only offering to pay you double if you let me go and let me pay you with money. You say this is worth only a dime to you? I'll pay you twenty cents to stop, and I'll pay you sixty-thousand dollars to leave me alone forever. I could give you even more than that if you give me time to find the money. I'm not worthless. I know how to get what I need. I could pay you off to let me go _and_ give you enough money for my car.”

And as if suicidal—and perhaps he _was_ , as death sounded nicer than the alternative at the moment—he found the boldness to add, “And how dare you blame me for Mother's death when you and I both know that it's _your_ fault?” Though he fully expected to be slapped again for that, he refused to cringe away, determined to show his father that he meant what he was saying.

A scowl darkened Zarkon’s face as he listened to Lotor lash back. His hand twitched as he was tempted to slap the boy again, but he curled it tighter around Lotor’s thigh, digging his nails in. His other hand, he pressed into the bed near his son’s head, allowing him to lean down. “You misunderstand, boy. You _are_ worthless, and the only way you will ever have value is by _my_ hand. You will never amount to anything without me.” He roughly yanked Lotor’s thigh in emphasis, forcing his son to grind against him. “I will not allow anything I own,” he hissed, “to be seen as weak or useless. That includes you. I will make you perfect.” He slowly stroked Lotor’s thigh. “I will give you value. A dime, a penny at a time.”

Zarkon released his grip on his son and rose up to loom above him. He reached for the collar, toying with it. The band was snug against Lotor’s throat, meaning it had little wriggle room to move up or down that column of delectable flesh. While he would’ve preferred it pushed aside but not entirely removed, he settled for keeping it on. He wrapped the whole of his hand over the collar, pressing it deep into Lotor’s throat. He ignored the harder, golden bits as they dug into his own skin, relishing the choking and fearful sounds Lotor emitted. Zarkon squeezed harder and shook him by the throat.

“You still have so much willpower left in you,” he murmured, beguilingly gently. “We will speak of your mother _after_ your punishment.”

He grabbed Lotor’s other thigh, intending on using it as leverage as he pulled his groin away. His cock slid off of Lotor’s and dropped, pulled by gravity, coming ever closer to his son’s very reluctant hole. Zarkon still kept his grip on Lotor’s throat, tight enough to lower airflow, but not tight enough to have him falling completely unconscious. Occasionally, he released his grip enough for Lotor to draw one measly breath of air before tightening again. He wanted him to remain awake. He wanted to watch as the fight drained out of his eyes. He wanted to see defeat and submission overtake his son.

Zarkon had intended on preparing Lotor, more for his own benefit than his son’s, but due to his behavior… He pushed his pelvis forward, pressing the tip of his weeping dick, swollen with the need to release, onto Lotor’s hole. His eyes remained fixed on his face as it slowly turned a darker hue. “Let us see if you have some value left in you after all,” Zarkon purred. “Or perhaps I could fill you with worth.”

The choking was making Lotor’s eyes water—or, at least, that’s what he would say was causing tears to slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he stared, horrified, at his father’s form looming over him. Nausea roiled in his gut, and angry disgust warred with submissive fear in his mind. He wanted to fight back. He wanted to run away. He wanted to argue or make another snarky comment if only to stall Zarkon for a few more seconds. He wanted to pass out and escape via unconsciousness.

Instead, he did nothing but try to clench down, hoping against hope that he could somehow deter Zarkon by making this as difficult as possible. Otherwise, what more _could_ he do? Being choked as he was, he couldn’t even stall for time.

A few more tears slipped from Lotor’s eyes, and he knew that they didn’t have anything to do with how hard he was being choked. He closed his eyes, not wanting to watch what he knew was coming next.

Excitement and pleasure filled Zarkon as he watched his son slowly give in. The tears were the first step—steps toward appeasing him. They leaked and rolled down Lotor’s face in rivulets. Zarkon rumbled low in his throat—a purr. Keeping his grip on Lotor’s throat and thigh, he pressed his cock further against his tight hole. “Fight all you want. I _will_ claim what is _mine!_ ” The last words were punctuated with a snarl and a hard thrust, finally broaching the impossibly tight ring of muscle.

He barked a vicious laugh at Lotor’s increasing resistance and denial, and his impending breakdown. He continued to push forward, but it was rough and slow going with Lotor clenching down on his cock so harshly, so wonderfully... that and the lack of lubrication. No matter. He pulled back and thrusted in again, going farther this time. He pulled back another time, and slammed in even harder, further. He kept his pace erratic, carving in deeper and deeper with every thrust.

When Zarkon pulled out, when he thrusted back in, how hard… all of it, erratic and unpredictable as he watched Lotor’s face, drinking in the agony with sadistic glee. His hand convulsed around Lotor’s neck, sometimes squeezing too tight, and other times, too lax. His other hand on Lotor’s leg had slowly migrated to gripping his son’s waist to give him better stability—but mostly so he could pull that defiant body flush against him, forcing him to meet his every thrust.

It took a few more hard pounds to finally seat his cock fully inside of his son. Zarkon paused, allowing himself to feel the hot, wet tightness clutching his cock from every angle. He panted, not from exertion, but from ardor and enthusiasm. “I want you,” he said between pants, “to know,” a cruel smile, “to feel,” another breath, “this is where you belong.”

While wanting to keep his hand clenched around Lotor’s throat, Zarkon released his grip to move both hands onto those sizeable hips. Lotor wouldn’t be meeting his every thrusts full-on of his free will, so Zarkon would _make_ him. He began to fuck and claim him in earnest, thighs slapping against a plush bottom and creating the most delectable of noises. Each pull and thrust was by his doing, at his pace—nothing was allowed to be for his son’s comfort. Zarkon found that he didn’t need to keep choking him, as the force of his thrusts punched all breath out of his cocksheath.

Lotor wasn’t sure which aspect of his rape was more horrifying—the pain, or the pleasure. Though the roughness was nothing but stinging, burning torture at first, his body couldn’t help but respond with arousal, and as the deep thrusts brushed past and stroked his prostate, the raw sensation felt… good, in its own way. The experience was still mostly painful, but as the pain mixed in with pleasure, he found that the pain itself became less of a torture and more of a pleasure in its own right…

He cried out, he writhed under his father’s touch, he let tears spill from his eyes and sobs rack his chest—he tried so, so hard to deny that any part of this was enjoyable in any way. He felt so ill, so dirty, so _used_ , and yet he couldn’t avoid the sparks of pleasure that coiled through his veins.

Precum had assisted Zarkon greatly in allowing him to force-fuck Lotor and fill him to the brim. His son’s unprepared hole wasn’t ready to take in such a large, engorged cock, and it showed—the weeping and screams were exquisite. If Lotor kept it up, it would drive Zarkon into a frenzy, and he might even push the smaller man too far. He placed a hand over Lotor’s mouth and nose, smothering him. Just for a little while. Zarkon licked his lips as he watched the struggle. He felt that searing heat convulse and clench around his cock, threatening to force him to cum already.

No. There must be more agony. He wanted to bring Lotor to a shameful completion, hopefully at the same time as him. It would serve well to cement in the fact that his son—and all joy in his life, all luxury—belonged entirely to Zarkon, and rewards would only be doled out when earned. Zarkon would allow Lotor his first orgasm for free, if only to show his good will.

For both their sakes, he pulled out momentarily to allow their lusts to dwindle a little. He'd allow Lotor to recover… if only to prolong his rape. If his son thought this was mercy, then that was his mistake.

Lotor took a few deep breaths to ground himself, grateful for the chance to catch his breath, but he didn’t trust this sudden stop. He looked at his father warily, wondering what he was thinking. It seemed unlikely that Zarkon was having a sudden crisis of conscience, so what was happening?

Deciding to use this reprieve to try to recover a little, he furiously wiped the tears away from his eyes, leaving little trace, almost as if they had never been there. He then tried to pull his collar forward to give himself more room to breathe, as the tight band pressing against his already-damaged windpipe made him feel like he was still choking despite being able to draw breath. All the while, he kept glancing briefly at Zarkon, though he tried not to stare at him, afraid that doing so might incite his anger again.

Zarkon stroked both his hands along Lotor’s thighs. “Look at you,” he murmured. “Look at how much you desire this.” He reached forward to grip Lotor’s hardened cock and gave a few pumps. “Look at how you react. You cannot tell me you don’t love it.” He smirked. “I want to hear you beg me for more.” He placed his hands back on Lotor’s hips, ready to brutally fuck his son again. “Tell me you want me.”

Lotor shook his head, trying to deny Zarkon’s words even as the pleasurable sensation from his touch radiated up like heat and sent a shiver down his spine. “I don’t want this,” he said quietly, hardly daring to say anything at all. “I can’t control how my body reacts, but _I_ don’t want this. Please…” Please, what? He knew that asking his father to stop wouldn’t work.

Instead of protesting again, he simply asked, desperate and broken, “Why are you doing this?” He’d asked before, in fury and bargaining and trying to find some excuse to make Zarkon stop, but now that it was, in a sense, already too late, he found that this was the only sincere question on his mind, the one thing he couldn’t comprehend. “If all you want is sex, you could find someone else, someone you’re not related to. If all you want is to punish me and make me miserable, you certainly found plenty of ways to do that when I was younger without resorting to this, so _why?_ ”

Zarkon held onto one of Lotor’s hips as he slowly slid his cock back in with a groan. He gave a few thrusts just to watch him writhe on his cock again before settling into a slow, rocking rhythm. He dropped his hands next to his son’s head, leaning close to his face. Close enough for their breaths to mingle. Close enough for Lotor to look him in the eyes, and nowhere else. “‘Why’?” Zarkon whispered.

Chuckling lightly, he leaned down to place a wet kiss on Lotor’s lips. “Easy,” Zarkon kept murmuring against him. “Easy… It’s because I love you.” The whole time, he was concentrating on Lotor’s mouth, watching soft lips tremble, but he had been saving the best sight for last: Lotor’s eyes. Zarkon watched as pain and confusion and doubt flitted across his son’s face.

Sadistic intent filled him again, and it reflected in his eyes as he rose into a better position to continue pumping his hips, using the moment to fuck Lotor as he tried to process everything he’d heard. “Mine,” Zarkon kept mumbling roughly. “I’ll make sure you know where you belong.”

His father’s words filled Lotor’s mind as he struggled to make sense of them. He’d always known that his father didn’t love him, didn’t care for him as a parent should. He’d long since guessed that Zarkon had never wanted a child in the first place, or else that he wanted a child more like himself. Lotor had always been too different, too much like Honerva, for Zarkon to ever be proud of him, ever love him, ever see him as his son.

 _So, perhaps he_ _doesn’t_ _see me as his son._ The thought popped into Lotor’s mind, clearer than anything other threads he tried to string together through the haze of confusing pleasure. _Maybe he never did._ The idea was strangely comforting. If Zarkon had never really loved him as a son, but instead felt _this_ , whatever _this_ was, for him, then perhaps that would explain why he had never shown any care for him before. Maybe he had just been avoiding showing how… no, no, that didn’t make sense, either. There was no way Zarkon had wanted _this_ for so long, right? Surely this desire had only started more recently, after Lotor had grown up. But then…?

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t sort through the confusing and blended thoughts in his mind, not while Zarkon still pounded into him, overwhelming him with sensations both painful and pleasurable. He struggled to try to make sense of everything, but he couldn’t think coherently about anything but his father—his cock splitting him open, his presence looming over him, his words echoing through Lotor’s mind… _I love you._

Finally, he gave in, not having the energy anymore to keep fighting against his father and to keep resisting his own natural reactions. He surrendered his mind to the sensation, losing himself to bliss with the vague hope that if he could simply get through this, then perhaps he could put himself back together again afterward. The tidal wave of pleasure was drowning him, and he couldn’t resist how it forced him to enjoy this to some small degree. It was a bodily reaction he couldn’t control. _So be it_ , he told himself. He knew that this was his _father’s_ fault, no matter how hard his own cock had become.

Having given up on fighting his own natural reactions, Lotor tipped his head back, allowing a moan to slip from his lips instead of the strained whimpers or pained screams Zarkon had been forcing out of him. Disgust clawed at him, but he ignored it. The only thing he was truly ashamed of was the ache in his chest from the words that echoed through his mind again and again: _I love you. I love you. I love you…_

Lotor had slowly switched from screaming and struggling to moaning and writhing. He was beginning to surrender, to enjoy the sex, if the way his legs wrapped around Zarkon’s waist was any indication. “Whore. I knew you’d give in eventually.” Zarkon slowed his pace to concentrate better on pumping a hand on Lotor’s cock. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear everything.”

He wanted to bring Lotor as close to completion as possible, before… He stopped pumping when it looked like Lotor was about to cum and picked up his pace, back to defiling him with his cock. His pace was becoming more frenzied as he approached his own climax. It felt like Lotor didn’t want to release him based on the way his tight channel kept gripping him, squeezing him, sucking him back in greedily. “Lotor,” Zarkon moaned. “ _Lotor_ …!”

Although shame still washed across Lotor, especially at how pleased Zarkon was that he was giving in, he refused to let it sink in. _This is all his fault_ , he reminded himself. _I might as well not make it any worse than it is._ He moaned as he felt the peak of pleasure approach, and he couldn’t bite back a desperate whine as Zarkon let go of his cock, denying his release. But then he thrusted deeply into him, and Lotor’s whine morphed into a moan as the pressure against his prostate brought a wave of pleasure.

Zarkon gripped his son’s waist tighter and bore down on him, pounding harder and harder as he felt his stomach tighten. It was much easier for his cock to slide in and out of his son’s abused hole now that Lotor had given in and thrown his head back to enjoy the rough treatment. The only time he felt his cock being clenched on and practically worshipped was when he hit a particularly pleasurable spot inside of Lotor, which only served as encouragement for the older man. If the needy responses from his son were any indication, he too was ready to explode.

The pleasure increased, and Lotor felt the need to release burn through him. “F-” He cut himself off. “Fuck…” There, that was better. He moaned out louder than before. “ _Fuck…_ I-I need…” He was so close to the brink, arousal burning through him. He didn’t want to be denied again. “ _Please_.”

“You’ve become unraveled so quickly and all you needed was a little love.” Zarkon chuckled, more at his own private little joke than anything else. He grabbed Lotor’s cock and squeezed tightly around the base. “I’ll let you cum, but only if you say my name.” Zarkon slowed his thrusts to a gentler pace, almost like a considerate lover than a domineering rapist. It was mostly so _he_ didn’t cum yet.

Lotor hesitated, not wanting to say it but knowing that his father wouldn’t allow him relief if he didn't cooperate. _His fault_ , he reminded himself. He looked up into Zarkon’s eyes, seeing the lust and determination there, and he knew that there was only one option. “F-... Father, please.” He let out a shuddering breath, still hovering at the edge of bliss but unable to get himself there. Tears of desperation welled up in his eyes. “Please, Father!”

“Good. You bend and yield so easily… I know you will make a good pet.” Zarkon picked up his pace, panting as he neared his own completion. “Cum for me. Call for me.” He dropped onto the bed, propped up on his forearms. Their chests touched, searing where their skin met, and Zarkon could feel Lotor’s cock trapped against his stomach. The both of them were covered in a sheen of sweat as they panted, nearing mutual completion. “Show me how much you love me.”

Though some part of him still wanted to resist, Lotor moaned, enjoying the feeling of Zarkon pressed into and against him in every way, the feeling of being _desired_ instead of unwanted. “Father…” He pressed his cuffed hands against Zarkon’s chest, not to push him away, but to feel the power there overwhelming him. He was so close, _so close_.

As Zarkon’s cock thrusted into Lotor again, pressing up against his prostate hard and deep, Lotor finally tipped over the edge, spiraling into bliss. “ _Father!_ ” he cried out as his whole body tensed, shuddering with the force of the orgasm. He closed his eyes, letting the sensation wash over him.

Lotor’s voice crying out in ecstasy and submission was the final push Zarkon needed to reach his own climax. Euphoria raced through his veins, filling his entire being with the purest of bliss. His vision whited out as he came. He groaned, feeling cum spurt out of his cock in waves, filling up his treasure with _worth_. His hips continued to snap against Lotor’s body, but the thrusts were short and hard, more like a grind against the body pressed flush against him than anything else. He could feel Lotor shudder beneath him as his own orgasm ravaged his body.

Zarkon collapsed fully onto Lotor, his entire weight pressing down on his son as they lay there together, in defilement and in bliss. With the high of his orgasm calming down, he fell slightly to the side and moved them both more fully onto the bed as he maneuvered the two of them into a lover’s embrace, but he still kept his cock buried inside of Lotor where it belonged. He ran a light hand up and down the curve of his son’s back, able to feel the sweat on such delectable skin. He pressed his nose into Lotor’s hair and murmured, “Gorgeous.” Zarkon pressed a kiss against a sweaty scalp. “You are at your loveliest when you come undone.”

The strokes on Lotor’s skin became more like raking as Zarkon dug his fingernails in, unable to contain himself. “I can’t wait—I want to see what you look like when I flay you from the inside out—” Zarkon’s panting had picked up again as a second wind of excitement and arousal began to flow through him. He moved back to allow himself room to grasp Lotor’s chin and tilt his head back, forcing eye-contact. His thumb stroked that soft, trembling lip, and pushed in lightly at the corner of Lotor’s mouth. “You’re not even close to breaking. How long can you last? I want to find out,” Zarkon’s last words ended in a fevered whisper. A wild look was in his eyes as he continued to pet and touch his newfound treasure. He’d dug it from the trash and he was excited to see what he could make out of it…

For a while, Lotor was too stunned to react, simply letting his father touch and move him however he pleased, even as his words stirred fear in Lotor’s chest. Then, all of the shame that he had been pushing aside came crashing down on him, and he began to cry again, pressing closer and burying his face in his father’s chest as he started to shake. He instinctively needed comfort, even if the only person who could give it to him was the one who had hurt him.

After a minute, his sobs subsided, and his breaths grew steady again. He drew back as well as he could, trying to squirm out of Zarkon’s grasp and trying to pull his hips back so that Zarkon’s cock would slip out of him. “Let me go,” he said quietly, not quite daring enough to demand to be let go but not submissive enough to ask. “And—and don’t…” He mustered up as much of his courage as he could and looked into his father’s eyes. “Don’t tell me that you love me. It isn’t true. You love an ideal, a concept of what a perfect son might be, or—or what a perfect little fucktoy might be.” His hands curled into fists, his own nails digging into his palms and grounding him even as fear of what his father might do to him for this made him start to shake again. “But that’s not _me_. You keep talking about breaking me, changing me, making me into a—a _pet_.” His voice broke on the last word, and he bit his lip in shame, averting his eyes. “That’s not love,” he murmured, barely above a whisper. “You’ve never loved me, and you never will. So please, don’t...” He closed his eyes, and the fight drained from him as exhaustion took over. “...don’t lie to me.”

Inwardly, Zarkon smiled to himself. One fragment of Lotor’s soul had fallen right into his lap. Soon, he would collect the rest and have ultimate perfection in his hands. Outwardly, Zarkon scoffed and lightened his raking into a gentle stroke again. “Hush, Lotor.” _Pet, pet_. He pulled him back in by the hips, rolling to crush his son under his weight. No freedom now. “Close your eyes and rest. You don’t know what you’re saying.” He pressed another kiss to Lotor’s temple. Beat him, break him, love him. That’s how Zarkon planned on sculpting his new toy. One fist, one kiss at a time. “Look at me when I tell you I love you.” He tilted Lotor’s head to look at him. “Can you truly tell me it is a lie?”

Inwardly, he smirked to himself. He grew stronger with every fragment, every piece that his son shed.

Lotor gazed into his father's eyes, searching for any trace of honesty or love. He didn't know how to read the look in them besides hunger and lust, and as Zarkon crushed him, he felt more scared than comforted. But the gentle touches soothed him, quelling his anxiety before it could build, and the warmth of his father's touch all over him was reassuring in its own way. He felt torn in two directions, needing this affection but not wanting to accept it. “Say it again?” he whispered, looking steadily into his father's eyes.

Zarkon stared down at Lotor. He laid his hand against a warm cheek, still moist from the tears. He cupped that cheek, caressing it. This was it. Make or break. The moment where the beast closed its jaws around its prey, the one where the trap laid finally boasted a catch. Zarkon brought his lips to Lotor’s forehead, laid a kiss there, and moved to his nose, and laid another kiss. He landed yet another on Lotor’s mouth, ran his thumb over plush lips, and then whispered, “I—love—you.”

Though Lotor tried to detect any insincerity or malice in those words, he found none, and his breath caught in this chest at the implication, at what it meant if his father really was being sincere in this. He still felt torn, still uncertain about Zarkon’s words and actions, but it seemed that Zarkon himself at least believed that he was being sincere. Lotor’s eyes stung with returning tears, but he blinked them back and bit his lip to keep it from quivering. “Okay,” he murmured, still keeping his father’s gaze. Then he closed his eyes, relaxing into and accepting Zarkon’s embrace. “Okay…”

Exhaustion took over as the tension drained from Lotor’s body. As he started to drift off to sleep, his last thoughts were of how warm and secure he felt in his father’s arms and how he wished he’d been given this—this warmth, this sense of worth, this _love_ —under different circumstances, in another way. But his conflicted thoughts fell into oblivion, and soon, he followed.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, we hope you were thoroughly horrified by that. Or pleased. Or both~
> 
> This was actually a roleplay we did together, and it was... a _lot_ of fun for us both, so we decided to clean it up and turn it into a fic to share! Special thanks goes out to Mara (same beta as for Sweetie's Lokon/Zarkancelot fic _The Cost of Defiance_ ), who was a dear and took the time to beta this absolute monster. We couldn't have gotten this out here for your reading pleasure without her.
> 
> So, if you found this enjoyable/darkly pleasurable/absolutely horrifying/whatever else, please comment and let us know! We would love to see everyone's reactions. We plan to have more, equally _fun_ content coming your way soon~


End file.
